


Recovery

by ionlyjoinedforfanfic



Series: The Good Girl [14]
Category: Wolverine (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of trauma, Desk Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Imagined boss/employee relationship, Light Dom/sub, Mental Health Issues, Mentions of Death, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Rough Sex, Smut, Therapy, role play, role play work environment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:42:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27540217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ionlyjoinedforfanfic/pseuds/ionlyjoinedforfanfic
Summary: Donald takes you to his place in Mexico so that you can recover from the home invasion. You are in a very dark place and Donald is doing his best to help.
Relationships: Donald Pierce/Reader, Donald Pierce/You
Series: The Good Girl [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1982072





	Recovery

**Author's Note:**

> The fic is in three distinct parts dealing with different stages of the reader's recovery. There is a huge tonal shift from the beginning to the end but for me the fic spans several weeks and I wanted to show her improvement.

Donald sat at the foot of the bed and observed your sleeping form, you looked almost peaceful tucked up under the comforter in the darkened room, though he knew you had neither rest or peace in the days following the incident. At first, he hadn't dwelled on it, it was to be expected. When you finally reached his apartment after some hasty travel arrangement, you both collapsed on the bed from exhaustion. He didn't admit to you then, but he was in pain, despite the medication supplied by Transigen the two brutal beating he'd sustained at the hands of the mutant Bryant Hammond had taken their toll. He needed rest, he needed to let the serum do its job and let his body repair itself. As for you, you’d already been running on empty beforehand - worried when he had disappeared, concerned when you saw his injuries, distraught after the home invasion. As the days wore on and he started to feel better, started to move about more, started to crave some normality, you had remained in bed. You weren't always asleep, sometimes you'd cry, sometimes you’d stare blankly into space, and when you did sleep you were often restless and wake in fit of screaming panic. Little seemed to stir you from your subdued state, he had to remind you to eat, and when you did you'd simply pick at what was in front of you – you already looked thinner. He had to convince you to wash, draw you a bath, carry you there and even clean you, sometimes he’d climb in the big tub with you, hold you and comfort you - a favourite thing in happier times. When the housekeeper came to change the bedding, you simply, and briefly, transported yourself to the couch.

Donald didn’t know what to do, he would hold you, kiss you, promise that you were safe and that no one would hurt you, reaffirm his love and devotion to you. It didn’t seem to work, there had been no improvement. He felt guilty, he always knew he’d be the one to fuck this up and leave you hurting but he hadn't imagined that he would hurt you so deeply that you’d be so broken. Drowning in the darkness. He took full responsibility, if you hadn't met him your life would have never been at risk. And how it weighed heavy on his heart. He thought he had taken precautions, but complacency and arrogance had cost you so much. He felt guilty too when you had reached out for him during the night, seeking intimacy and connection. He thought it was a good sign, he knew you weren't seeking pleasure, you just want to feel close to him, to feel loved – he knew because he felt the same way. Yet, Donald wasn’t sad about Bryant, he wasn’t upset that he’d killed him, only that you were hurting - and when he was buried within you and felt your warm, tight pussy he did feel pleasure, he enjoyed cumming inside you. Fuck, maybe he was a monster, maybe he was the broken one to not feel even a fraction of the torment you did.

He needed to something to snap you out of this, to help you, he thought about changing tact, about getting stern, raising his voice and ordering you out of bed but he was frightened. Frightened that you may break (though how much more that was possible was unclear) but mostly frightened you would throw it all in his face, confirm you blamed him, storm out, leave him forever. He’d never risk that. So, he needed a different plan.

"Baby? Baby you awake?" he said, gently shaking your leg. You turned, looked at him, he was left wondering if you’d been asleep at all. "Sweetheart you need to come with me?"

"Where?" your voice quiet and hoarse.

"Just to the living room."

"Why? Is Juana here?"

Donald shook his head, "C'mon."

You dragged yourself from the bed, reached for a hoodie to put over the t-shirt and pyjama bottoms. Donald arms reached for you as soon as you passed him, ushered you onto the living area. As the door opened, your eyes stung with the sunlight that shone through the wall of windows, you hadn't even been aware it was the middle of the day before now. You shielded your face, letting your eyes adjust, all the time Donnie’s hand resting on small of your back, his thumb brushing back and forth. You realised you weren’t alone in the room, an older Mexican man in a light grey suit sat on the leather couch, staring at you, a soft smile on his face.

You turned back towards the bedroom, Donnie blocked the route, your body now resting against his, you looked up searching for answers, tears filled your eyes.

"Baby it's okay, it's okay. This is Dr Perez. He’s come to talk to you."

"A doctor?" Donnie gave a small smile and nodded, all in the hope of reassuring you. "You think I'm crazy?" Tears falling now.

His smile faded, "No baby," his hands gentle on your hips, "but I think you're hurtin’ and I don’t know how to help you. It okay to talk to somebody ...y'know after traumatic events...please baby, just try."

You stayed where you were, hung your head, refused to meet Donald's gaze, ignored the doctor completely.

"Please baby you can’t...we can’t carry on like this." You finally looked him in the eye, recognised the sadness and pain reflected there, so you conceded.

You made your way over to the couch, sat at the far side away from the doctor, Donnie perched on the armrest at your side, the man said nothing until you were settled.

"How are you?" He asked as if he’s an old friend come to catch up. You simply shrugged. "Donald has told me that you've both gone through quite a bit lately...he tells me that you've been struggling." You shrugged once more, and silence filled the room. Uncomfortable silence. Donnie went to say something, but the doctor simply raised the finger on the hand that was resting on his knee, a quiet command which silenced him. You looked at Donnie, there was tension in his jaw as his mouth remained shut, you knew how much he would have hated to be told what to do especially here in his own home, but he endured it. The doctor was still waiting, his wrinkled face still soft and open, he was not demanding yet you knew if you didn’t speak you would all suffer this silent limbo longer.

"I didn’t think psychiatrists made house calls."

The doctor’s smile broadened, and lines appeared around his eyes, a life filled with laughter you thought, "I think that depends on the practice, but you are right it's quite rare. Donald convinced me it would be better if our first meeting was here. He has been very worried about you."

Convincing, yes Donnie could be. You wondered how he had gotten the doctor to come, what tactics had he employed, paid extra or twisted his arm in some other way. "First meeting?"

"Yes, if you would like to talk about things with me, we could arrange a session at my office, maybe arrange for you attend some support groups. If you want to that is?"

You sighed, turned to Donnie, "Is this what you want me to do?"

"Baby I just want you to get better, and the doc he comes highly recommended.” He’s talking as if you are the only ones in the room, Donnie doesn’t give a shit about anyone feelings but your own, and though the doctor is the expert and had hushed him moments ago, he is still on Donnie’s dime and still in his house. "I wouldn’t have brought him here if I didn’t think it was worth a try."

You looked between the two men at either side of you realise they are throwing you a life line, "Okay.”

\---X---

Smoothing his beard with his fleshy hand, Donald’s elbows rested on his knees as he perched on the edge of the seat. He clacked his teeth, side eyeing you as he considered the doctor's question.

"I appreciate your position doc, I do, and I'm grateful to you, you seemed to have both made good progress," he motioned his finger between you and Dr Perez, "But I just don't see the need to talk about my feelings on the matter."

The older man sat crossed legged, opposite the luxury leather sofa you both sat on, tapped his gold pen to his lips, considering his next move. Both men engaged in careful dance, a quiet struggle for dominance, so different from your own interaction with the doctor. "Hmmm, Donald it is less about you specifically and more about how you are dealing with this as a couple." Donald turned fully to then, his body tense, eyes glaring. "I'm not here to force anyone to do anything they are uncomfortable with, why don’t you take the activities away with you?"

"Thank you." You reached over for the paper from the corner of the sofa and offered a small smile.

The drive home was quiet, awkward. Donnie was stewing in his own thoughts. Not mad at you, there was no malice, but his brows were furrowed, and you recognised his insecurity, fighting between his instincts and what he thought you wanted. You hadn't seen him like this for some time, but then again you were going through some shit. Recent events had thrown everything up in the air. That was why Dr Perez had suggested Donnie partake in a few sessions, requested him come in at the end of this one. Clearly Donald had very different views.

Donnie relaxed a little once you were back in the apartment, was chatty enough as you started preparing dinner. Chopping vegetables next to each other, you bumped hips with him, got him to give you a kiss, even squeezed your ass as you rounded him to get something from the cupboard and by the time the ingredients were sizzling in the pan you felt comfortable enough broaching the topic again.

"Do you want to have a little look over those questions?" It was met with a low groan. "Donnie,” you half plead.

"Baby I just don’t need to talk about this stuff, I'm sorry of that makes me heartless but -"

"Okay I get that. I get that you are able to deal with stuff like this, but I obviously can’t, and Dr Perez thinks this will help."

"Dr Fuckin’ Perez!" a hiss of laughter to match the heat in the pan.

"Donnie, that's not fair he’s helped, you know he’s helped." Donald’s silence an affirmation. He couldn’t argue, whatever Donnie was paying was money well spent. Since seeing the good doctor you had made positive strides, you were coping much better. Maybe it wasn’t that he was a miracle worker, just competent at his job, but his methods worked - getting you into a routine, setting small task (getting dressed, going to store, calling work), encouraging you to keep a journal of your thoughts and feeling, giving you a safe space to talk. It had all worked, you were in a much better place than you had been. You were determined not to let the sea of pain and hurt swallow you once more. Neither was Donnie.

"The questions are just there to get us to talk that's all.”

"So talk to me baby," he turned the flame to low and leaned back against the counter, arms crossed against his chest, the pose mirroring your own, except you reached for the glass of wine you had only recently poured.

"Okay, you're going to listen and not get mad?” He shrugged. "So… okay, you know that I don’t blame you for what happened but…but if I'm being honest, really honest, I'm scared. I'm scared of how dangerous your work is, how-”

"Baby we've talked about this, decided work is work and home is home." He huffed, stood up and over the hissing pan.

"With respect that was before your work fucking invaded our home." Your voice rose, there’s spite there, anger, why Perez had suggested you speak with him because you knew Donald would shut down whatever conversation you had. Donnie’s taken back by your tone, pain in his expression that told you your words had cut deep. He took the pan from the heat, moved to get a serving dish.

“Baby, it was a freak incident." His voice low, deflated at first but then fuelled by his own bubbling anger, "You think I wanted that fuckin’ mutie to come at us like that? You think I'd put you in harm’s way?”

Dropping your head, you sighed, long, exasperated, before trying once more. Stepping towards your lover, you placed your hand on his shoulder, soft and tender, “Donnie, I don’t want to fight. I told you, I don’t blame you, I don’t blame you at all. I was there, I know how scared you were, I know what you did to protect us but..." you had moved now, maneuvered so you were stood directly in front of him, reached for his arms, and pulled than around you. “It’s just how I feel. I need you to know. I'm just so frightened of things…what if it happened again? Weeks from now, years…when I'm on my own, without you to save me…what about when we have kids? What if one day you go out and something gets the better of you, and you don’t come back to me?”

Donald softened for all his bravado, for all his bravery and fierceness, he loved you more than the world and his reluctance to hear you out was a reluctance to face the truth of his guilt. He was tender hearted when it came to you and he recognised your emotions for pain and fear rather than blame and doubt. He tightened the embrace, his arms surrounding you entirely.

"Baby I'm not going to let that happen. You don’t see but I've been workin’ hard, we got so many new protocols, procedures."

"That's the point I don’t know,” your voice still soft, it’s not an accusation, “But that’s not even…I don’t really care about that, I just can’t lose you."

He pressed hip lips to your crown, began a quiet chuckle, "Baby that's not going to happen.”

"Why are you laughing?"

"Just I'm worried about you and you’re there worried about me." He sniggered again and brought a little smile to your own lips.

“Well this is why it’s good to talk about things.”

He was quiet for a moment, no tension or awkwardness, “Darlin’ please don’t fret about that okay, honestly we are more likely to be in a car accident.”

"That's a jolly thought." You slapped his chest with the palm of your hand, "Come on supper’s getting cold." You grabbed the dish, headed to the table, Donnie following with your wine.

"So, you think we will have kids?"

"Huh?"

"You said if we have kids."

"That’s your take away?”

"No but..." he leaned cocked his eyebrows before he kissed your lips.

"God. Never change."

He hovered, "We good baby?"

You answered with a kiss.

\---X---

The prickle of Donnie’s beard could be felt through the flimsy material of your sleep shirt, his chin rested on your shoulder as he peered over it to the computer screen, you had sat on his lap after he called you into his office late one evening. You rarely went in there, left him to his work, yet this was for you. He was showing you the new security system he'd installed back at your place. You had been reluctant for him to go the expense and the effort but Donnie was adamant that he would only allow you back home if he knew you would be and feel safe when he wasn't there. You didn't protest, you agreed, as much as you were keen to get back to your own life - friends and even work - you knew that going back and being alone would be difficult. 

"So, no one will be able to break the perimeter but if they do, there are sensors in the house too." He lifted his cell phone, "See once you get in bed you just arm the system like this and then if an alarm trips you go to the bathroom. We've reinforced the door and lock. You wait it out there for help."

"Who helps?"

"Security company are alerted as well as me, or Transigen’ s team."

You hummed as you considered what Donnie had shown you, began a deluge of questions: what if forget your cell? What if you accidentally set it off? If you need to pee? Get a drink? He had answers for everything. He took his time, showed you the aspects of the system again, explained and reassured. Never rushed you, after all this was about making you feel safe, feel happy.

"So the cameras in the bedroom…some clandestine organisation isn’t going to be able to spy on me?"

"You think the government wants to watch you sleep?" He cocked his eyebrow as he stretched to look at you, smirked. “They only come on if the alarm is tripped or you or I turn them on?" Another smirk and a little shake of his head, "Only person spying will be me, when I miss you." His arms squeezed around your waist, you glanced behind you and scrunched your nose.

"Kinda creepy."

"Is it? Hell darlin' I was going for sweet." He offered his lips to your skin, "What about if you turn ‘em on for me, maybe let me watch you when I really miss you?" His arms squeezed tighter still, you bark a laugh as his chuckle ripped through him. The one you loved, the one that of late only made rare appearaces. "So what do you think?"

"What about staring in your own personal porno?"

Laughed, “No ‘bout the system."

"Very good, very professional, it's almost as if you do this for a job."

"Oh you are comedienne tonight huh?" He tickled you before stealing a long, wet kiss. "Now scoot, I gotta do a little more work." He swatted your ass as you hopped down to leave, "Not be long baby just a couple bits of paperwork."

Things were getting back to normal, the suffocating shadow of the awful day mostly banished to the deep, quiet corners of your mind. The pain wasn’t completely gone, you knew it would be a very long time before that man’s name was nothing but a bad and distant dream, maybe it never really would. Yet you were happy, or getting there, you felt like yourself again, willing to get on with your life. Donnie was happier to too, he’d always been loving and attentive, but he had been so cautious with you, yet as you improved, he began to relax, you began to see glimmers of his old, playful self.

Walking through the living area you saw a stack of files and papers Donnie had forgotten, you went to call back to him, wondered if he needed them but a devilish idea silenced the voice in your throat. You practically skipped to the bedroom, rifled through your clothes - you knew you'd seen a pencil skirt amongst them somewhere. It was still in your case, you hadn't needed work attire during your stay but then again you weren't in the right frame of mind when you had actually packed. You then sought out some fancy underwear – that was easier to locate, a designated drawer in the closet. You selected a bra that was navy silk, overlaid with delicate black lace - very sexy. You didn't bother finding the matching panties. Quickly you stripped your sleep shorts and t-shirt and redressed your newly naked form in the sourced items before finishing the look off with your black heels.

You walked back to the way you came, heels clip clopping on the floor as you collected the discarded files and a nearby pen, before headed back to Donnie in his office.

He was in the same state as you left him, head down working away. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach and you started to feel heat flush your face, nervous now at your plan. You shook you head, as tried to steel yourself and reminded yourself it was just play. Donnie loved to play, to laugh with you and you needed that back. You both did.

You knocked lightly on the door, stood patiently with the files resting on your forearm as you waited for him to react.

"What is it baby?" he asked as he quickly glanced up from his work, though soon enough the realisation of your new ensemble washed over him. He stopped and looked back up at you, reclined in the large, leather chair as he drank you in. His blue eyes ranking over your body, a glimmer of gold as he bared his teeth, clacking them as he tried to comprehend your intention. "You okay sweetheart?" The grin on his face made your cunt pulse.

You cleared your throat, "Excuse me Mr Pierce, sorry to disturb you but I was just wondering about these reports."

His smile widened, "And who may you be missy?"

"Oh, I'm new, it's my first day." You raised the pen to your mouth, let it rest on your bottom lip as you batted your lashes and offered your best come hither look. "I really could do with you help to clarify a couple of things."

He cocked his eyebrow, smoothed his chin with his mechanical fingers, "That right? Well, why don't you come here so I can have a closer look." You made your way to his side, the sound of heels echoing around the room, Donnie's eyes fixed on your form like a predator eyeing up his next meal. You placed the paperwork down on the desk in front of him, leaned over it and as you did, stuck out your rear, the curves of your behind where Donald's attention settled. "Why don't you tell me what the problem is?"

"Erm well I can't quite make out your meaning..." you chatted some random gobble, all the while pointing to a blank piece of paper that lay on the top of the documents. Donald feigned concern uh huhhing and nodded as you explained the 'issue'. "And if you were to tell me what you wanted then I think we both could be happy."

"Well, missy it looks like you've made a real mess of the reports, but.." his hand moved the round of your ass, smoothed over the curve as he talked, "I'm sure you've got other talents that would be beneficial."

You look over your shoulder at his smirking facing, "Oh Mr Pierce, whatever do you mean?" It earned your favourite chuckle. He gave a slap to your ass, then rubbed the spot he’d just spanked before squeezing - enjoying himself, making you wait.

"Oh just that you could attend to some of my personal needs." There's a twinkle in his eye, you had to bite your lip to stifle your own laugh and not break character.

"Hmmm if it would make you happy and secure my position..."

His hand dropped down, felt the flesh of your calf and dipped under the hem, ran it up over your thigh and between your legs, let out a feral growl when he realised your weren't wearing underwear. Pushed his chair back and stood so that he was behind you - all the while mauling you and you mewling his name. Once standing, he hitched up your skirt to expose you - the cool air conditioned air biting at you, the course fabric of his fatigues grazing but most of all the feeling if his hands, flesh and metal, groping at you. Lost in the moment, nothing but you and Donnie and your desires.

"Mr Pierce I'm not sure this was in my job description."

"Excuse miss but who is exactly in charge here?" with that his hand firmly grabbed your hips and pulled you back into him.

"You are Mr Pierce." You hummed as you ground your ass deeper into his growing erection. Donald snarled as his hands moved upwards, yanked you up so your back was flush with his body, his mechanical hand kneading your breast whilst his fleshy fingers were at your neck. You craned behind searching for a kiss, still grinding yourself into him. He kissed you back, but half mouth not enough to satisfy, so you twisted further, eventually turning to face him. Your arms moved to rest on his shoulders and fingers played with his sandy hair. Affection and love winning over in the naughty game you played.

But it was Donnie who actually broke first, "Let's go to the bedroom baby."

You broke the connection for the second time, leaned away from him so that he could see your face when you shook it. "There's no bedroom here Mr Pierce."

His blue eyes soft and his smile gentle, a tilt to his head. You saw his concern as plain as day, there would have been a time, in the not so distant past, when he wouldn’t have thought twice about taking you there and then. But that was before. Now he was so careful with you, worried that you were so fragile you would break. You loved that he wanted to care for you, that he was trying to put your needs before his own. But these were your needs, you needed him to be himself, you needed your normality back, you needed him to fuck you. You perched on the desk, cold and sharp against your naked skin.

"You're just going to have to fuck me on your desk." You spread your legs wider, gave him full view of your wet, aching cunt. He answered the call, unfastening his trousers to release his own throbbing need, stepped forward.

"You sure 'bout this baby?"

He was close enough to you now for you to whisper in his ear, a pleading whimper, "Please Donnie."

He didn’t need more, his desire as great as yours. He’d been holding back for so long. He stroked your entrance with his leaking tip, used it to split you open before thrusting deep inside, both of you groaned as he bottomed out, then again as he retreated and plunged forward once more. Each thrust deep and shunting you further on to the hard surface, except that Donnie’s mechanical hand went to your ass, pulling you back to him as he pounded into you. At first you clung to the desk edge, but you wanted to be closer, soon your arms rested on his, then circled his neck. Drawing him closer to you. He nuzzled into your neck. Sloppy, hungry kisses - the slap of his tongue, the graze of his beard, of his teeth. Deep and hard and fast. He was relentless and you needed him to be - you encouraged him with your words, you knew you needed to be more vocal, he needed to know you wanted this. His fleshy limb around your back, wrenching you to him. More, wanting so much more. Together his arms and his strength practically holding you up. You had expected him to fuck you down into the hard desk as he’d done before yet this was good, better. Him rutting up into you, his thickness and the friction of your body next to his, overloading your senses. Your body crushing into his, the feral growls emanating from him, you knew he'd given himself up to the lusty animal within, the one he had caged for so long. And you gave yourself up to him to - calling his name, begging for more. You had always been offered intimacy, but you were both now seeking pure pleasure, pleasure you had been denying yourself.

That familiar feeling, the one Donnie could always so easily draw from you, began to consume you, like electricity sparking through your body, you clung to him as you rode higher and higher, dizzy and weak once it washed over you. Your orgasms, the ones Donnie gave you, were always intense but this one was so overdue - body and mind and lover all ready and willing to give it to you. You still held Donnie even as your muscles were overcome, you sensed he was close too, you felt him pull away from you.

"No," your grip tightening "inside."

He’d done it before, you knew you shouldn’t, but you needed to be all of him, you needed connection more than anything. Within moments he was cumming, growling curses, still thrusting up into you, slower but deeper with each. When he stopped your limbs were still wrapped around each other, slumped slightly so you’re back resting on the desk.

"Fuckin’ love you so much baby."

"Does that mean I get to keep my job?" 

He huffed laughter, raspy and out of breath, "Baby I'm never letting you go."


End file.
